Dancing Away With My Heart
by flawsinscience
Summary: This short multi chapter story is set post season 2. It brings Elizabeth and Henry back together during a life-threatening event.
1. Chapter 1

_AUTHOR NOTE: Hello, this is my first fiction for a very, very long time so bear with me, I binge watch Madam Secretary at the start of the year and fell instantly in love with it. This story has been ruminating for a while and is partly written and likely to be maximum 8-10 parts. I'm gonna warn that updates will be sporadic as I'm a junior doctor who's busy but I hope you enjoy…. comments are very much welcomed._

Elizabeth couldn't settle, they'd had a reasonable flight back from Finland, Henry had been relieved, his shoulders not tight with the weight of the world, his warm, strong form snoring lightly for the majority of the Atlantic crossing. They had slipped silently back into the house, wordlessly checking on their family, stripping off the layers of clothes and flopping on the bed. There had still been a barrier, Henry rolled onto his side of the bed put his light out and shortly after his breathing slowed, a sign he was drifting back to sleep.

Her mind swam, things should have been better, they had solved the big barrier, torn down their Berlin Wall and it should have been better. But they weren't completely solved. Whatever was plaguing them has seeded, fractioned and poised to continue the ruin. Her mind flitted to wondering what the next big crisis would be. About the domestic or foreign issue that would consume her till it passed. Sleep, Elizabeth thought, was all that was needed and it sat just out of reach like a kidnapped dignitary. Looking at her with a pleading smile, tied in the vines of distress.

Sleep must have caught her she mused stirring in the small hours, cursing the volume of water she'd consumed in the air to battle dehydration. She sat up, bed clothes drifting toward the floor as her hand reached for her phone, perhaps third world war loomed and she could be excused from the purgatory of rest. Her breathing speed up, catching her by surprise as she crossed from the bed to their en-suit. As she crossed back, her vision faltered, almost slipping on the trail of her scarf, the one she swaddled herself in on flights. Sitting back down she sipped some water, choking as her breathing misaligned with swallowing. Pain shot to her side, consuming her chest and causing her to groan, louder than she realised. Henry slammed a light on as he fumbled to her side, the look of panic evident on her face, her voice a whisper of distress.

He wasn't about to argue with her, explaining they were going to the hospital now and she could protest later. Grabbing some jeans he bundled her up, clattering to the door as she flopped in his arms. He reached the bottom of the stairs, banging his side and her hand against the balustrade, cursing as she groaned again. He managed the first door with difficulty, her detail hearing the commotion opened the outer one. A car sparked to life and he careful placed her on the seat, shutting the heavy SUV door behind her, she was trying to mutter something.

The Kids.

He turned to see if their lights were on as they sped down the street, he took his phone out as the sped towards GW, Stevie took a while to answer but the panic of his voice was enough, he didn't need to ask her to gather her siblings up. They had left an agent who could take them in. He ended with an apology, trying to off set the guilt for his recent attitude at home. He felt her squeeze his hand as the rapidly rounded a corner. His pleasantries were on deaf ears, silent tears crept down her bluing face as she leaned on him for support.

The agents had called ahead, activating plan Delta meaning the department was on standby, a gurney ready in he balmy spring air as they approached. Whispering words of comfort in her hair as they slowed to a stop he gathered his wife up, shimmying out of the vehicle and laying her down supine on the bed, an oxygen mask clamped immediately as she burled into the emergency department with force.

Henry stood, sucking in the night air, wailing quietly as he looked to the sky, whatever was reeking havoc on his wife was almost too painful to bear. An arm landed on his shoulder, he turned to find Nadine Tolliver standing there in jeans and top, a look of great concern on her face. Through sobs he explained what happened, not realising she was leading him into the corridor bringing him outside the noisiest room in the department.

His wife's.

Questions shot at him from all angles, what happened, how had she been, any recent travel, he had to laugh, she had crossed the Atlantic five times since Christmas. Was she on any medication, none that he knew of other than the full packet of Xanax she'd refused to take since the bombing. Had she been in hospital before, his brain swam, figuring the last time she had been in was when the blip post Iran and before that when Jason was born. Between the gowned bodies surrounding the bed he saw her form, slightly more full of colour than it had been, her arm hanging like a broken twig stabbed with 2 huge cannulas.

He winced as he was pushed towards her, someone explaining they needed him to calm her down, her other arm he noticed was swatting away defensively at the team trying to stabilise her. He took her hand, holding it tightly as he brought the other one in close, asking her firmly to focus. Her eyes, glazed and clouded with tears tracked on his face, flitting from side to side in panic. She was gulping in air frantically. It didn't need a medical professional to tell him she was in extremis. The longer he focused with her the more she settled, her body slumping slightly as she continued her fight for air. He let her hand go, dabbing away the tears.

From the corner of his eye he saw a machine being shuttled in, like a diplomat he hoped they could at least get an answer for what was going on. A hand was slowly moving her gown up, the pyjamas she had on in the car lying in tatters on the ground, she moved to swat them away but he pinned her down, letting the medical team blob jelly on her chest, peering at the screen as she lay half naked on the gurney. The conversation didn't look promising as the commotion started again, a tiny syringe stabbing in her abdomen as they covered her up, the click of her bed break being lifted. He attempted to follow her, a hand stopping him in his tracks.

The most senior doctor held back, looking gravely at him, man to man. He started with an apology, explaining that his wife was gravely ill, dammit, he had already guessed that. They were suspecting that she had a pulmonary embolism, most probably caused by the flying but also possibly from an underlying something. Henry wasn't enjoying the direction of this conversation, he ventured what they planned to do about it. There was the possibility a procedure could be performed. It was relatively new and wasn't without risks but would remove the clot and buy them time to assess her fully. He pointed to the machine they'd been yielding at her in the room and explained her heart was now under strain and regardless of what the scan showed she would be admitted to the intensive care unit.

Henry stood up straight, feeling the power drain away from his grasp. His wife was being placed on the critical list and he was powerless to help. As the attending tried to explain the procedure they could offer Henry felt himself zone out, focussing on what the last few weeks had been like and how his actions were possibly partly to blame, if he hadn't been so upset she wouldn't have chased Dimitri and gotten on that flight, the flight that could end up being her killer. He caught key words, stroke, haemorrhage, heart attack. They didn't sound like fun either. When she took the job they had sat down with a lawyer drafted wills and advanced directives, he knew she wouldn't want to end up a burden on anyone.

Henry stepped out of the room, pale and clammy from the news, watching his three children, their three beautiful humans hurtle towards him. Nadine and Blake who had appeared immaculately dressed as always, hovering back as Henry quietly explained what was going on, how Bess was fighting for her life and the options they had. Alison sobbed, Jason reeling back sinking into the wall. Stevie clung to her dad, feeling his heart break as they stood dumbstruck with terror, waiting.

A few minutes passed in silence, the dim noise of the department soothing frayed edges with distraction. A door banged down the corridor, the team re-appearing with slightly more aplomb. The frail looking figure surrounded by monitors and fluid bags. The same senior doctor beckoned Henry and his family forward, explaining that she was a little more awake but they were about to put her under anaesthesia in the department before going ahead with the procedure and if they wanted to say anything they had a few moments.

Henry grabbed her wavering hand, reaching out to nothing in particular. He saw her smiling behind the mask, her I'm being really brave smile, he asked how she felt and got a garbled good back in response. Stevie laughed nervously, her mum was trying to put a brave face on the biggest crisis they had ever faced. She let Alison and Jason in, both planting gentle kisses on their mamas forehead, shrinking back to the corridor as Henry was left, he nodded to the team, watching someone remove her mask and force a bigger on over her mouth and nose, pausing to let him kiss her properly. He was sobbing silently now, holding onto her hand as they pushed white liquid down her IV. He felt her squeeze his hand before going limp, her body sinking into the bed as they removed the mask and went about intubating her, pushing the hollow plastic tube down her throat. Shortly after the whirr and hiss of a ventilator could be heard, reminding him of the hum in a chinook. The monitors bleeped in a cacophony of slow and rapid beats, crescendoing into alarms intermittently. They pulled her top down, exposing her and pasting two huge pads onto her chest. Attaching them to a defibrillator. His gut wrenched again as they rolled out of the room, the defib monitor bleeping in unison with the ventilator. An odd guard of honour followed her up the corridor, body guards flanking the bed, Henry clutching his kids as they walked up towards the elevator, ready for the tidal wave of whatever was incoming.


	2. Chapter 2

_Wow, thank you so much for your kind feedback, some of you have mentioned that I've not included much speech, that's my style, I prefer for you to imagine the speech and discussions rather than quote directly. It will be peppered in now and again but I hope it's okay. I'm on a very busy week so the next update isn't likely to be until a week today or later. I've included an addendum at the bottom explaining some of the technical medical stuff._

Chapter 2

By the break of dawn the waiting room was overflowing, staffers and dignitaries flowing in and out, the inner most part of the waiting room still as Henry watched over his children, trying to grasp at sleep whilst he tried to will his mind back from the abyss. The President's office had called and asked for updates every so often. He knew Conrad would appear as soon as he knew, but that his staffers were keeping him in the dark until they had news. Russell Jackson was on his way, having heard the news whilst it was still dark. They were expecting Will at some point that day, he's jumped on a plane from London as soon as he'd heard, gulping when Henry had explained what was going on. Without actually having the conversation Henry knew he was panicked.

Alison had curled up in Blake's lap, after a long discussion about fashion. They weren't sure who was distracting who. Jason industrious as ever had pushed two chairs together, clinging over the side of one like he always did. Stevie, her mother's daughter would sit for a few seconds before pacing, catching her dad's eye every now and again. Her mind could only focus on her mum, lying on a table somewhere in the hospital, rendered powerless from the drugs, undergoing a procedure that may leave her disabled. She wondered what her mum would be doing right now, how she would make the situation better. Her thoughts raced, her mum would need some things to make the hospital more comfortable, her favourite hand cream, that robe she wore on Sunday mornings, her house shoes. Focusing on her dad again she offered to go home and fetch somethings, offering to take Daisy for moral support. Henry nodded, he couldn't focus till he knew Bess was okay, but Stevie probably needed a little space and there wasn't much they could do here.

Sunrise had come and gone by the time Stevie re-appeared, cradling a fresh outfit for all of them, explaining she didn't think mum wouldn't want to see them dishevelled. Henry smiled, proud of their resourceful brood. Alison stirred slowly, never a morning lark, sitting up wearily as the door opened. A woman and the older man from previously appeared, looking shell shocked. Henry stood up, the paper he hadn't been reading dropping to the floor.

They took a deep breath and explained that everything had gone well, she had sustained a massive pulmonary embolism but they had removed the entire clot and relieved the strain to her heart caused by the blockage. She was stable and they expected her to wake in a few hours, she would be kept ventilated until they had a period of stability. Henry could sense they were holding something back, their expressions weren't matching the good news. Stevie was first to ask if anything else had happened. Nodding the female doctor, clad in maroon scrubs, explained that Elizabeth had sustained an arrhythmia as they operated, though it was short lived they had required to use the machine to shock her into a stable rhythm. Henry gasped, sitting back in the chair. The next 48 hours were critical and they would be keeping her monitored in the ICU until they could be sure it wouldn't recur.

Asking if she was ready for visitors Henry got the go ahead, Stevie knowing her father would want some privacy before everyone piled in shot a glance at her siblings. He followed the doctors, crossing the corridor into the patient area, a heady mix of silent patients and noisy monitors. She was in a cubicle at the end of the row, closest to the nurses station. Two agents standing either side of the room. He gasped, pushing the clear glass door open, her form looked so tiny under the blankets, draping over her legs and tucked under her arms, he noticed some new tubes, one sprouting from her neck and one in her wrist, a blood stained dressing covering it. She looked fragile and yet strong, strong because her physiology had been undefeated. Her face was obscured by the tubing, feeding oxygen into her lungs, lungs he ventured were probably a bit weary. He went to the chair lying in wait for him. Taking her hand he reached up to tidy her hair, tracing down the line of dried tears on her face.

As he paused, taking a deep breath, he reflected that perhaps the last six hours hadn't been the hardest bit, that keeping her still and settled enough to let her body repair itself would be more of a challenge than he wanted to imagine. The door hissed with release of the airlock, sliding to revealed the kids now in day clothes, stunned to silence by their mum's form, emotion blunted by the turmoil of the last few hours. A nurse bustled in beside them, commenting on the monitors and tubes, explaining one was monitoring her heart, another one letting them give her fluids and the ventilator, currently supporting her to breath on her own and no longer doing the work for her. Henry surmised this was good.

Somewhere between the morning news and lunchtime bulletin Henry heard commotion outside the room as Conrad Dalton appeared at the door, pausing as he caught sight of Bess, shuddering as he observed the room, willing his tears not to fall. Her essence laid to the side like a change of clothes. Broaching the door he moved to Henry, placing a hand on his shoulder, standing behind so he could steady himself. Apologies fell out of his mouth faster than a tornado, he hadn't been alerted until first thing and when they phoned across she was still in surgery and he wished he'd appeared sooner. He offered his prayers, explaining he and his wife were planning a stop at the church, that there was a growing mass of dignitaries offering their best wishes.

Back in the waiting room come command centre work continued, Daisy fielding media requests and Matt drafting the statement with a junior doctor, correcting medicalise into eloquent speech. They took it in turns to sit with Bess, keeping Henry company, holding her hand and reading extracts of the newspaper, summarising the grim daily onslaught with animation and a comforting lilt.

Crashing through the locked door to the unit Will had unceremoniously started throwing his weight around and demanding the team be rallied for an update, the proffered file of notes entertaining him as the top doctor was tracked down. He internally quelled an urge to vomit. Her numbers had, quite frankly, sucked. pH of 7.10, bad. CO2 of 10, bad. Hypoxia despite oxygen, bad. Low BP, bad. As he looked at the prescriptions he winced, the list filled with nasty, end of the line drugs. As Dr Little the senior who led the unit explained they'd turned her sedation off a while ago and trends were better Will focused on one question, how the hell had it happened? She'd been flying for years, what had provoked this. He heard their plan of scans and further blood tests in due course but Henry wasn't ready to go there and neither were they. The immediate issue was in hand and that she was in the room down the corridor. He, much like the President had, stood silently at the door, drinking in the fairly standard scene in ITU. Ventilator, central access, arterial access, multiple infusions, heart monitors all snaking from the silent form, his big sister. Offering an empty smile he embraced his nieces and nephew, squeezing them tightly. Henry sat unmoved from the seat, visibly stiff as Will put a hand on his shoulder.

The family tried to bring normal into the corner of the unit, cracking jokes and recalling old stories, planning to retreat back to the farm once she got home. As the evening sun glinted through curtains, heralding the end of the worst day, a calm navy hue coating the D.C sky. Eventually, as silence descended on the conversation the kids excuse themselves to search out some take away. Will excusing himself to nip home and shower. Henry opened the book he was reading, settling in to the uncomfortable chair. Picking up his glasses he flicked them on, peering over them to enquire if she was ready and listening. He started to read, one paragraph of spoken love after another, the flow interrupted by monitors picking up pace as he flopped the book closed, sliding forward in the chair.

Her eyes opened slowly, the sensation of something choking her throat, stark lights blinded her vision as she lifted a heavy hand up, nothing quite made sense. She felt a familiar grip on her wrist, trying to focus into the source she panicked, her throat numb and frozen. She'd been able to hear voices since the afternoon, unable to make sense of them but finding comfort in their presence. The activity around her picked up, noises changing as she felt someone peeling tape on her face, her arm instinctively reaching up to stop them. Henry's voice came across clear and firm, like it had the last time, quelling her to follow directions, She held still as the obstruction in her neck softened, coughing as instructed, feeling a different mask being held on her face. Henry came into focus, holding her gaze with his, kissing her gently as she took a deep, easy breath. She sighed a hello as he smiled at her, she listened as he explained slowly and solemnly how she had been so sick, how she was still in intensive care, and what they'd done to help her. Her face bore that expression of vulnerability that he loved and hated, but loathed tonight.

The doors slid open as her children ripped into the room, smiling with relief. Hugging her carefully in turn they commented on how close she'd come, looking at them with that innocent amazement of a child to their mother. Their world had almost completely obliterated into a thousand shards but she had stuck it back together by merely waking up. She tired easily tho, frequently drifting in and out of sleep, waking at the crescendo of laughter and dozing off again.

Will returned with the rising of moonlight, sliding the door carefully as he watched his sister sleep, the number of breaths tracked by the monitors, muted for peace. He had chased Henry home for a few hours of rest, knowing from his own work that chair sleep wasn't ever comfortable. He promised to phone through any updates and Bess had managed to promise to behave between yawns and morphine induced haze. Will knew that Henry was the only one fit to keep his sister calm enough to recover. A recovery that may be about to lurch into more medical treatment.

He couldn't help studying her sleeping form, wondering in the back of his mind how such a catastrophic event could have brought her close to death. He knew she was healthy, asides the whole PTSD thing which he struggled to believe was completely accurate, she looked after herself, asides the penchant for bad takeaway. He knew there had to be more to come, the search for a reason and casting the net back out of a safe harbour they rested in, her vitals holding with only some support from fluids and medications, her name dropping down the critical list fast. But what course lay ahead was making him nauseous. Being on the giving end of the conversation she would have to face tomorrow, the blissful ignorance she was wallowing in was worth it's weight and whatever was to come could be crossed with the coming of dawn.

 _Addendum: A central line allows for lots of fluids to be given to sick patients and certain medications need to go through 'a big line' it's often left in to allow for easy access to blood test and monitoring how much fluid someone needs. An arterial line is like a blood pressure cuff but instead is a monitor that sits in the artery and gives a real time update. Infusions are like a drip but they're medication rather than just fluid and there's lots of them in ITU. There would also be a fairly standard set of monitors on the patient constantly keeping an eye on vitals, boy those machines can get noisy._

 _Feedback, as always is much appreciated._


	3. Chapter 3

Calm had descended overnight, Henry had slept soundly at home, waking early and creeping from their townhouse with coffee and papers in hand, he knew Bess would want to know what she'd missed, how she had been the news for a cycle, how they'd made it passed page 6 of the Times. As he weaved through the now familiar route to the ICU he found Will scrunched at his sister's side drooling into her covers - a talent he mused - being able to sleep with some aplomb in a seat designed for interrogation.

Bess stirred when the door had opened, stretching out her weary muscles her toes curled in the bed clothes. She still had too many tubes and wires weaving around each other to allow for a more comfortable sleeping position to be achieved. Henry smiled as she opened her eyes, despite the oxygen tubing she still looked cute, he could drink in just waking up Bess all day, her slightly clumsy movements endearing. Will woke quickly, habit forcing him to look for a non-existent pager, looking around he stood up, letting Henry in with a promised that he'd come back in later after they had rounded.

They didn't get long for small talk about how she figured they'd shoved something down her IV to help her rest last night, but that she was grateful as the infusion pump kept throwing a hissy fit and alarming. She enquired about the kids and what the latest from her office was. Mid explaining that Stevie had declared it late night pizza night the door rattled open and the two doctors who not 24 hours before had saved her life bustled in, a plethora of junior doctors stopped by the doors slamming behind them, her nurse had slipped in somehow and stood poised to take notes on the day's tasks.

The female doctor, a Dr Weaver, stepped forward explaining they had been pleased that she had been stable and making good progress since the procedure, that no further arrhythmia had occurred was positive but they still had some questions to answer. Henry didn't like where this discussion was headed, it was bad enough they'd already been to hell and back but now more was needed. Perching on the bed Dr Weaver explained that it's uncommon for such an event to occur without good cause, Bess inhaled deeply wincing as she strained her chest. Henry rested his hand on her shoulder steadying her as they spoke about the worst possible causes and the things they needed to exclude. Malignancy was high on the list and they needed to wait another day till they could step Elizabeth out of the ICU and out of the arrhythmia window to do pan-scanning. They also needed more blood tests, markers for tumours and coagulation disorders would be needed. Looking at Bess straight in the eye the doctor levelled with her, explaining they needed to ask some more questions, risk factors so to speak, things like had they had any miscarriages, problems with bleeding, previous leg clots.

It wasn't common knowledge Henry offered, pausing as the memories of watching Bess go through the painful loss of 2 late miscarriages between Alison and Jason, how they'd had to explain to a pre-schooler that she wasn't going to be a big sister yet. The brutality of the births she had to endure without a happy outcome. He saw a silent tear slip from his wife's eye as the doctor nodded, offering her apologies for the loss they had but that it was possible there was a blood clotting thing that might be a more probable cause than cancer. Explaining they planned to get the tests over the next few days they set about reviewing the various interventions she was still on, re-writing orders and promising to find her a room on the general floor by sundown that night. As quickly as they appeared the left, the flurry of rounds continuing as Henry faced his Bess, his mind racing to what they might uncover in the next few days, what they might yet have to go through. He rarely found her speechless but she sat before him, sobbing quietly. He rubbed her arms, brushing her tears away carefully as they took stock, working out a plan for how they could figure the uncertainty out. He mused that nothing was set in stone and they didn't need to read anyone in properly until they had an answer, that the kids would be best kept out of the loop until definitive answers were had. Her nose dry from the oxygen Bess mustered a deep breath, nodding and giving her best I'm going to be okay smile. She felt fragile and vulnerable as the news sank in though, so many more unanswered questions lay before them, and they couldn't get some of the answers until she was well enough to not need the ICU. Like an embassy she felt they were safe whilst they sat in this glass lined room with machines beeping and pinging with little possibility of rest, but that what they needed lay beyond the perimeter.

Will wafted back in, much like the medical team had done, a medical shimmy, born of years wielding unruly equipment into patients rooms. Gulping he figured they'd set about their investigation, arranging for the multiple tests they'd need. The Adam's siblings hadn't ever been one for affection, preferring to spar and spat. But knowing that they could be at the start line of a long and dirty fight for her health he took her hand, rubbing the small area of skin not consumed by medical tape. Regardless of what was found he ventured, she would be okay, and at the very least kept in comfy hospital wear and decent caffeine. She smiled, explaining what he already knew, that she could have cancer and what symptoms might she have missed, too busy behind that oak desk she commanded. With the surgical offhandedness he'd learnt in times of strife abroad he ran down an internal list: fatigue, breathlessness, night-sweats, leg pains, odd pains anywhere, breast lumps. The last had made him shiver, their childless aunt had grown bald and skinny from breast cancer long after their uncle's demise.

None of this made them feel better, Henry gripping her hand tightly. Their children would be in after school and staffers could be kept at bay whilst they figured the whole thing out, planning their coping strategies and readying their game faces. A lab tech appeared to do bloods, stumbling slightly when he put a face to his patient's name. Fortunately she didn't need a needle test as they had lines in her neck that could provide the blood they needed, somehow she still winced, squeezing Henry's hand as the tubes clicked into the tubing, her privacy invaded by someone other than her husband touching her neck. He whispered pleasantries, holding her steady as the test finished up, making sure he got in close after, adjusting her pillows and making her smile with a bad joke.

Slow and steady turned out to be the motto of the day, scans at her bedside revealing no leg clots that could have provoked the lung problems. The tech again having to invade her privacy to look at the veins in both legs, her nurse kindly helping to get her freshened up, helping her into her favourite robe. They had agreed to let the President and Russell Jackson in, rather they knew the DS wouldn't be able to stop them.

Carrying an unnecessary large bouquet of flowers the President looked more relieved than Henry to see his old friend conscious and talking. They enquired about how the team thought she was doing and got only guarded pleasantries about the promise of a general room by sundown. Figuring visitors were a welcome distraction in small doses Henry had let Blake in later that afternoon with a severe warning to only reassure that her office was under control. His gift made her chuckle, a plush eye mask, thick socks and luxurious hand cream, necessities to ward off poor thread count hospital sheets. He explained the deputy secretary was now up to spread and ready to cover her for a few weeks at the President's request. They'd delayed important decision making meetings and that her health was the biggest priority.

Henry was grateful that the day, interluded with tests, had passed without ill event. They still had no answers but she had been stable and content to snooze easily, listening to Will and Henry debate the news headlines and disagree with mutual respect about all things political. As sundown approached her nurse had been in to remove some tubes, explaining they had readied a corner room in the private floor agreed with her security. The wrist line came out, a good sign Henry ventured. He stayed close as the medical team worked to get her ready for transfer, holding pressure on the dressing in her wrist, making her giggle as he tried to kiss it better.

Without much notice orderly staff appeared along with a junior doctor, ready to escort her off the intensive care unit, a similarly bizarre guard of honour as the one in the emergency room, an odd cacophony of medical staff, suited security and her family, Henry staying close to hold her hand as she strained to see the other patients of the intensive care. Had she looked so awful with the tube in her throat? How much was Henry putting a brave face on things? Instinctively he leaned in whispering that even when she had been intubated she wore it well. She chortled which unfortunately led to a coughing fit and more pain.

The Mccord kids were waiting outside her room, greeting their mama with hugs as she was settled into her abode for the next few days, a light and airy space more conducive to recovery than the ICU. More gifts littered the room as her extended family settled to join her for movie night, not allowed out of bed she managed to shimmy over enough to let Henry lie out, grateful of his support as they passed more time, waiting for their unanswered questions to be yielded.

As sun lit the room in pinks and then purples they wound up the movie, the younger Mccords reluctant to leave for the night. Will promised to feed them all espresso and pizza for the evening, threatening a kegger to wind his sister up, glad she had managed a laugh and one of her threatening glares. Henry followed them to the door, asking if Will would fetch some breakfast in, knowing Elizabeth would prefer one of her favourite pastries over hospital bacon.

He found her almost asleep, still wearing the thin oxygen tubes to help her lungs heal, laughing at how they made her glasses crooked. Sliding them off her face he stroked her hair, studying her face as she felt him stare. He felt emotion building up as he felt the weight of her illness fall on his shoulders. It was impossible for him to picture a world without her, left with only their family photos and media clips of her. They had so much left to offer the world, places they wanted to go, milestones they wanted to pass, tasks to achieve. Their family was young yet, longing to hold his children's children and see her grow old and more beautiful. Closing his eyes as tears threatened he felt her petit hand cup his cheek, weakly smiling as she promised she wasn't going anywhere. 'But you nearly did' he choked, flashes of her bluing face haunting him as he fell into her lap, careful of the unseen wound on her thigh, the small cut where they'd threaded medical plumbing kit up to unblock her pulmonary artery.

'It's okay' she soothed, drawing circles on his back, the oxygen monitor catching his shirt, 'whatever's about to happen, whatever the reason this happened… we're going to figure it out.' He grabbed her gown tighter, balling it up in his hands as her essence soothed him. 'Team Mccord, right?'

He sighed, they levelled each other well and complemented one another perfectly, he could predict her coping strategy once she was better. She'd push the nurses limits, pester to get home and back to work and then crumple in a heap of emotion down the line. He'd be ready, firmly at her side, winding in her unrealistic expectations and ensuring she healed properly. Will had already suggested the farm for a few days, unplugging the entire family together till she processed things and recovered.

But for right now he was content to know that she had made it through the worst, that they would figure her health out and cope with the outcome. As their reverie was disturbed by the night nurses, checking observations he was grateful of the pull out chair waiting for him, one night away like this had been bad enough. Promising to try and rest Elizabeth wasn't up to arguing as the nurses gave her something through the IV, the medication soothing her own anxiety about the scan planned for tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

He gripped her hand tightly as she was wheeled down the corridor to the radiology department. Their morning had consisted of another medical review with her doctors, recommendations for more 'de-medicalisation' which Bess appreciated, enough so that she'd been able to take a bath with Henry's help and put on her own clothes. The bloods were still inconclusive as she'd been on a blood thinning drip but tumour markers were negative, news welcomed with a sigh of relief. They just had the scan to go to exclude cancer before they pursued other causes. Her oxygen had fallen off in the middle of the night without causing her monitors to alarm meaning she was more free to get out of bed, again another positive sign. Will had warned her to take it easy, noticing her breath quickened merely walking to the bathroom when he'd appeared with a morning update and her favourite pastries.

She felt vulnerable as they settled her on the scanning table, the room cold for the machine, lifting her arms up above her head she felt foam pads support her legs as Henry waited at the door. Bess noticed him wincing, she knew he could feel her vulnerability too. He was preparing a menu of wholesome food he'd make her once she got home, pastries from her favourite bakery weren't quite going to cut it, her pyjamas hanging awkwardly against her thinning frame. He could read her like a book, a well read and half torn favourite novel. She was prone to not eating when stressed, forgetting to hydrate as Blake reminded her often, choosing to exist on coffee and the occasional banana. Their relationship, the one steady and constant in their worlds had been stormy of late, mostly from her betrayal and his inability to process at her speed. Whether the flight that caused this whole thing was to blame or not he felt the guilt gnawing at him. A kindly lady pushed him gently from the room as she looked back at her, biting her lip as they moved the table through the scanner.

Minutes later she reappeared, back in the wheelchair, clad in her sweater, tucking her hands in the sleeves with nerves. Putting his hands on her shoulders he softly kissed her forehead, her breath catching as she stifled tears. 'It's okay, you're on team Mccord' he sighed into her hair, offering the orderly to let him take her back to her room. He tried to protest but her security shooed him away with ease. In a bit to make his wife smile Henry took her wheelchair and started weaving slightly and making train noises, acting the goat to distract her, at least until they could get back to the room. She had to laugh, dorky was their default disposition and it make her relax.

The foray out of her bed had, as Will warned, exhausted her and made her more breathless again. Henry helped her onto the bed, wrapping her travelling shawl, the blue pashmina that was an old favourite round her shoulders, hoping onto the bed beside her as she silently started to sob, holding her side tight enough that she knew he was there but mindful of her breathing. Perhaps an impending terminal illness was enough to leave her broken sooner than he thought. She buried her face into his shirt, taking in his scent and trying to steady her breathing as best she could. She was spiralling out of control and on the verge of anxiety, her PTSD flashing back to the emergency room where she had hungrily fought for air, for her family, for her life. Henry could sense her tension, easing his hand to the call button, knowing she was on the verge of a panic attack. 'You need to relax baby' he soothed, waiting patiently for a nurse to come in, wordlessly she left the room returning quickly with some medication, he lifted her sleeve to let her flush her IV and administer something to help. Her anxiety and the healing lung damage was a lethal combination and jested though he had about her being cute on the ventilator he wasn't in a rush to return to the ICU. Her muscles eased and her mind slowed into an abyss as she settled in her husband's arms, pulling her shawl tighter as he let her steady onto the bed, unable to argue as her oxygen was replaced and the monitor attached to her finger.

Knowingly the nurse placed a reassuring hand on Henry's back making sure he was okay as he slid off her bed and held her hand, watching her breathing even and the monitor sync.

He'd let her have her phone earlier in the day, the notifications vibrating on her nightstand. Watching her sleep he lifted it up, typing in her passcode and answering Blake's message enquiring if she was up to visitors, without being rude he replied that things were steady but tomorrow might be more appropriate. The President would no doubt stop by at some point and he was powerless to really stop that but he didn't want her staff to see her weak, Conrad was an old friend who was omni-present and, at times, was more like an fatherly brother to her, but her staff. She deserved privacy for now. Selfishly he also wanted her to himself, at least for now till the knew what was going on.

Back at home Stevie had been furiously researching her mom's illness, procrastinating college work. She was worried, pacing the kitchen whilst Will phoned his wife and her cousin, catching her before bedtime in the UK. She felt nauseated with what her mom was going through, they knew she'd been at a scan today and was tuckered out for the afternoon. The family group chat had kept her up to date, Alison and Jason still going to school at Bess' request. 'Stevie,' Will fiddled with his phone, taking stock as his niece paced round the kitchen island.

'I need to know what they're doing to mom, what they think is going on.' she was starting to get distressed, she couldn't face her mom being taken away. Will sighed and brought her to the table, sitting down and leaving his phone face down as she studied his calm exterior.

'They are excluding cancer, Stevie' she gasped, what she'd read was true, 'in the first instance they need to exclude cancer, it's a big reason otherwise healthy people throw a clot like your mom did.' He took her hand in an unusual act of affection. 'She's been for a scan today and we'll know later tonight or tomorrow,' Stevie stifled some nausea. 'And if it's not cancer it could be because she's got a clotting problem,' he sounded more blasé.

'How do they treat that? Doesn't that lead to stroke and heart attacks,' Stevie countered, Will eyeing her with the same suspicion he did his patients' who'd been researching things.

'It's not my area of expertise but I'm guessing they'll give her some blood thinners and keep an eye on things…. but you know my thoughts on doctor google' he brought her in for a hug, explaining that no matter what they had to face, it would be as a family and she would be well taken care of.


End file.
